


Born Out of Time

by writtenthroughtime



Series: WTT's Posts for ImagineClaireandJamie [2]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:05:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6356431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenthroughtime/pseuds/writtenthroughtime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked:<br/>We all know that, realistically, Claire wouldn't have gone back through the stones any sooner, even if she knew Jamie was alive, not when it meant leaving her child behind - but what if she had to come back because of Brianna? What if, with Bree originally being meant to be born in XVIII century, and with only one of the parents being a traveler, she was getting sicker every day and the only cure was to get her back to her own time? A druid-lady can diagnose her ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of Time

Brianna moaned from the sofa in Claire’s office. Her brow was slick with sweat, face the pallor of chalk, and her small body curled up in a ball trying to fight off the pain in any way possible. 

Claire looked down at her daughter, distraught and frantic with herself for not being able to help. Colleague after colleague made their way into her office eager to help and all left with forlorn faces and disappointment. 

“I’m sorry, LJ. I wish there was something I could do for her. You know I would if I could.” Joe whispered and clapped a hand to Claire’s now shaking shoulders. “Take this time to be with her. She’ll—” Joe cleared his throat, his voice becoming thick with emotion. “She’ll want someone who loves her beside her when it happens.”

“Oh, God!” Claire sobbed as she stared at her only reason for living growing weaker by the second. 

“Mama?” Bree’s broken voice called out, barely audible. 

“Yes, sweetheart. Mama’s here. I’m right here.” Claire said rushing over to kneel by her daughter.

Claire lightly moved a wayward ruddy curl from Bree’s face, committing the silkiness to her memory. 

“Mama, I don’t feel good,” Bree whimpered out, her pale face splotched with fever flushed cheeks. 

Stroking her head, Claire whispered, “I know sweetheart, I know. Mama is trying to make it better. Can you tell me what hurts the most?”

A feeble nod came from Bree and she turned her head to the side to face her mother—eyes glassy and unfocused. “Right here,” she said and pointed to her chest, just above where her heart lay. 

Claire grimaced and felt her stomach drop like a lead ball. She picked up Brianna and set her in her lap, curling herself around her frail child. 

“Is it normal for me to dream of places I’ve never been, Mama?” Bree muttered turning over to bury her face in Claire’s chest. 

“What sort of places, darling? It’s very normal to dream of far off lands and places your mind longs for.” 

“I-I’m not sure where it is,” she said, nuzzling deeper into Claire’s safe embrace. “It was really green and so cold!” her small body trembled with the memory. “There were these purple flowers that covered the hills and people laughing while running through them.”

Claire smiled and vowed if Brianna survived this, she would take her anywhere that her heart desired. “That sounds like a lot of places, darling. Could you tell me more?”

“Well, there was this one place, and I go there a lot, that was super tall! Like an apartment building, only it looked like a castle! It was a yellowish white stone all over, with a big garden and horses.” Bree tilted her head up and Claire could see the smile on her face, “It was so beautiful, Mama. I like it there—even if the people talked funny and had weird clothes.”

“Oh, really?” Claire exclaimed, a smile on her face. “Tell me about these funny accents and clothes. I want to hear all about it.”

And Brianna did; she told her mother everything she could remember from her dreams. The endless hay fields, the babbling brooks, and the little kids she played with while she was there, all depicted with the utmost care and excitement. As her stories went on, Claire couldn’t help feel a pang of regret. The children and area Bree described eerily reminded her of Lallybroch, and the people she spoke of sounded like the family she longed to return to.

“—and there’s this big tower with a silly name! Broch Tuarach, it means north facing tower.”

“North facing tower,” Claire said at the same time as Brianna, who was giggling. 

“It’s round so it doesn’t face any way, but the door,” Bree covered her mouth giggling with even more enthusiasm. “The door faces north!”

“Does it indeed, darling? That is a silly name for a tower. You are quite right.” Claire felt her skin crawl with electricity and a knot—that had never fully gone away—tighten even in her chest.

“Darling?”

“Yes, Mama?” Bree said through her giggles. 

“Did you meet a man there that had the same colored hair as you?” Claire dared to ask. Her heart stuck in her throat. 

Bree’s eyebrows scrunched up in thought. “Umm… I don’t think so. There was a very nice man with a peg leg and there was one who used to live in a cave—but he always wore a hat. I never saw his hair. He’d come out to say hi sometimes, not very often. But he did tell the best stories!”

Disappointment flooded through her. For a moment, Claire had hoped that Bree would have had a glimpse of her father through a dream world. 

“He sounds wonderful.” Claire kissed the top of Bree’s head and sat up. “It’s best we get home. Maybe you’ll dream again of this magical place.”

“Alright, Mama,” Bree replied sleepily. 

The next day Claire did something she never thought she could do: she bought the first plane tickets she could find to Scotland. The stories Bree had told her made Claire’s body ache with longing and want. She had to go back to Scotland. Deep down, something was telling her that she needed to go to Scotland and take Bree with her. 

Their flights left later that evening so it didn’t give her much time to prepare, but Claire was ready to go and would worry about clothes and toiletries when they get there. Frank would be one obstacle that would prove to be the most difficult, but Claire did not care. She was doing what she deemed right in the situation. Bree had an undetermined amount of time left; the only fact was it was going to happen, and soon. 

Claire’s hands shook as she pulled back into the modest drive of the apartment complex giddy with excitement, at the prospect of making the landscape visions of Bree’s dreams a reality, and shaking with adrenaline at the thought of the row Frank would most assuredly cause. 

Brianna lay on the family room couch, a crocheted blanked haphazardly dropped across her body. The television was on, the muffled sounds of the cartoon music drifted into the hall. 

“Claire,” Frank called, causing Claire to jump. 

Placing a hand to her heart, searched for the direction in whence his voice came. “Frank!” She exclaimed, “What the devil are you doing home?”

Frank sat on the stairs, his arms tightly crossed across his chest, his lips in the stern sneer of his ancestor. 

“I came home to grab a lecture I had forgotten on my desk. When I arrived,” he said, standing and making his way over to me. “I found Brianna, alone.”

Grabbing her arms tightly Frank shook her. “What were you thinking leaving her alone? Are you so irresponsible you cannot even care for your own child? Christ, Claire!” 

Frank released Claire’s arms, and shook his head from side to side. “You’re not the woman I married. You haven’t been since damn Scotland! I want my wife back, Claire.” His eyes softened and his forehead creased in despair. 

“You know I can’t be that person again.” Claire whispered, avoiding the possibility of Bree overhearing them. “I’m not the same. I cannot go back to how I was before-before—”

“Before that Scottish bastard!” He finished furiously. She nodded, looking him in the eye.

“As for being a bad parent, I am not and do not take kindly to the accusations you’re spinning, Frank. Brianna is, and always will be, my number one priority. I went out to do something for her. I left her alone because she is ten years old and can handle thirty minutes by herself! Christ, I left her alone because I could trust her to still be here when I got back! She’s a child yes, but she’s responsible and knows her own mind.” 

Claire began pacing the small foyer. “Do you think so little of me that I wouldn’t tell you what was going on? Christ, Frank! You accuse me of being an unfit parent when you hardly know the girl nor do you care what she’s going through!”

That got his attention. His head perked up and his eyes bore into hers. 

“What—?”

“She’s dying, Frank. That’s why she’s not at school; that’s why I took her to my office yesterday. I wanted to see if someone I worked with knew how to help her and they all have said the same thing, ‘make these last moments happy ones.’ So, by Christ, that’s what I was doing this morning.”

Claire was fuming; she could feel her blood pressure increase by the second. “I’m taking Brianna to Scotland, and you’re not going to stop me.”

“Scotland?” He asked. “Scotland?! You’re taking her back to the place where our lives went to shit?!” He yelled incredulously. 

“Yes, I am. I got the tickets this morning. Not that you care, but she’s been dreaming of a place I remember from my days there and I want her to see it in person before…” She trailed off unable to speak the words that hung in the air like smog. 

Frank’s face began to turn a deep red, his mouth clamped shut. 

“There’s no stopping me so don’t even try. I’m going to pack a quick bag and we’re leaving. Tonight.”

Frank released a breath like a deflating balloon. “If you must go, at least contact Reggie and try to stay with him. We may not love each other the way we once did, but I do still care for you Claire. Despite what you believe, I never stopped, and I do love Brianna in a way. It’s hard knowing I can never have a child, and yet I can’t fully love a child that isn’t mine.”

With that Frank walked away, head hung, and his stride defeated.

Claire slumped against the wall, heart pounding from the fight. A light shuffling came from the other side of the hallway. 

“Scotland?” Brianna asked eyes bright and eager, the liveliest Claire had seen her in years.

“Yes, my darling, Scotland. Go put a few books and your favorite toy in a bag, sweetheart. I’ll get the rest.” Claire smiled as the small girl darted up the stairs with more enthusiasm than she had ever seen from her. 

Frank insisted on driving them to the airport. Claire didn’t object. She had only bought one way tickets, not knowing if Bree…not knowing when—if—they’d want to return.

“I know it’s not much, but here,” Frank shoved an envelope full of money and a scrap of paper with a phone number on it. Claire looked at him, confused. 

“It’s Reggie—the Reverend Wakefield’s—number and his housekeeper Mrs. Graham’s number. I sent an emergency wire to them. They should know you’re arriving with Brianna by the time you land. They’re good people and will take you in.”

Claire’s throat was thick with unexpected emotion. “Thank-you,” She barely breathed out. 

Frank simply nodded, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, kissed Bree and left. 

They were free.

Brianna was amazed by the plane and all of the sights and sounds of the terminals. 

 

Scotland greeted them in a way only it could: misty cold rain and comfort wrapped into one. Frank had been right; Mrs. Graham and the Reverend were both waiting in the car park, a smile brightly decorated sign bouncing in Mrs. Graham’s hands. 

“Claire, my dear!” Mrs. Graham greeted with a hug. “Oh! And who might this bonnie lass be?”

“My name’s Brianna,” Bree declared, her voice full of excitement. 

“Oh my, lassie, that’s a bonnie name for a verra bonnie lass! I’m Mrs. Graham,” She stuck her hand out and Bree took it, shaking with enthusiasm. “It’s a pleasure to meet ye.”

The Reverend stood back, a smile on his face letting his housekeeper deal with the pleasantries. “Come, my dears.” He said gesturing to the car. “It’s best we get going. We’ve a long drive back to Inverness.”

The women piled in, Mrs. Graham talking a mile a minute, excited to see Claire and her bairn. One thing did bother her though: the state in which the younger lass’s health was in. The sickness could not be masked, no matter the amount of happiness across her face. Claire had been a traveler, still was, and this child had been conceived out of time. 

A jolt went through her in realization. “Of course,” she thought to herself. The lass has—

“—the faerie time sickness.” Mrs. Graham explained to Claire. “The only way I ken how to make it better is to go back.”

“Back?” Claire’s eyes went wide and her palms broke out into a cold sweat. “Is such a thing possible? I’ve already been through twice, and Bree once. Is it safe?”

“Aye, ye must go back. The legends say it willna cure in the time that she shows the sickness in. She must go back; you must take her there. I don’ know if it’s safe or no, but it’s the only option ye have.”

Claire slumped in the kitchen chair, remembering the time her palms and tea leaves were read, a journey she didn’t realize she’d actually take, moments away. “If I do this, will just going back to the time cure her?”

“That I don’ know either. But she won’t be as sick, that’s for sure. Find yer family, and hers, they’ll take care o’ ye and help her.”

Claire gazed blankly at the ceiling, contemplating. What other choice did she have? Staying here ensured Brianna’s death. Going back there was no guarantee of finding the Fraser/Murray clan or even the correct time, and most importantly no guarantee of Brianna’s survival. 

With a long, deep breath Claire focused on Mrs. Graham again. “Ok,” She said nodding. “Can you help us get there?”

Mrs. Graham smiled, “Of course, lass. Be ready tomorrow mornin’ and we’ll head to Craig na Dun.” 

Nodding, Claire watched as Mrs. Graham quickly produced a wicker basket, linen, food, and eighteenth century clothes. 

“Now, the dresses may no fit well, but they’ll be better than yer modern clothes.”

The smile on Mrs. Graham’s face was infectious. Claire launched herself at the elderly woman and embraced her, “Thank-you.”

Bree grumbled the next morning when her mother unceremoniously pulled her from the warmth of the bed and out into the cold Scottish morning. With a yawn, she asked why there were up so early. 

“Mrs. Graham is taking us somewhere that may help you get better,” her mother replied. 

Bree’s eyebrows shot up at once, “Help me get better? Is it really possible?”

“Maybe, my darling. Maybe.” 

“So where are we going?” Bree asked eagerly, slightly more awake than before. 

“A place called Craig na Dun. It’s an ancient hill and standing circle, similar to Stonehenge only smaller.”

“A hill and stones are going to make me better?” Bree replied dubiously, her mood instantly souring. 

“No, not the stones themselves, love. It’s where the stones will send us,” Claire replied patiently, eyes focused on her daughter’s ever-changing facial expressions.

Brianna had to ask a few times for clarification. She could have sworn she heard her mother say where the stones will send us. 

“Yes, where the stones will send us,” she repeated. “Do you remember the bedtime stories I told you before?”

“Which ones?” 

“The ones about the lady who fell through time and found her prince, but because of a terrible war she was stolen again and forced back to her own time?” Claire watched as Brianna’s mind worked out the puzzle, remembering the various tales of Elizabeth and Sawny. She nodded her head when she remembered.

“Those stories are real. The story is about me and… your father.” Claire said tentatively.

“My father is back in Boston, and he has black hair, not red like Sawny’s. Mama, are you making things up to make me feel better again?”

Claire laughed. “No, sweetheart, this time it’s all the truth. You’ll see. I promise, you will see. Sawny’s name is James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser, and he, my darling, is your father.”

Bree was quiet for a moment. Her jaw dropped in disbelief and her head shook, bouncing her red curls about.

“You’ll see.” Claire said again. 

At the stones, Bree kept twisting her fingers in her ears; the buzzing even worse getting higher up. 

“Just about there,” Mrs. Graham called from ahead of them. “I need to get the torches going and start the chant. If you and the lass will stand right in front of the center one, the one with the split down the—” Claire arched an eyebrow at Mrs. Graham. “Ah, yes, you would know wouldn’t you. Sorry, deary.” 

Claire ushered Brianna to the stone in question. The buzz became louder with each step; it was almost deafening by the time she stood before it. 

Mrs. Graham began to dance and chant in a weird voice, the language something Bree had never heard before. 

“Alright, when Mrs. Graham comes back in front of us and the sun starts to rise we’ll touch the stone.”

Bree nodded, clapping on hand to an ear, the other tightly squeezed her mothers. 

“Whatever you do, don’t let go.” Bree whimpered. 

“Never, darling. Now here is the next important thing: think of your dreams. The man with the cap from the cave, the wooden peg-legged man, the children you played with, keep them firmly in your mind. Ok?”

Bree nodded and tightened her grip. “Ok.”

Just as the sun came up Claire bent over and kissed her daughter’s head. “I love you, Brianna Ellen.”

“I love you too, Mama,” She whispered back. 

The next thing she knew she was in more pain than she’d ever experienced and was lying flat on her back, her hand still clutching her mother’s. 

“Brianna, are you alright darling?” her mother asked. 

“Yes, but I don’t want to do that ever again,” she wheezed out, still recovering from the shock. 

“Don’t worry, we won’t,” Claire replied. “Can you stand? We need to get moving.” 

“I think so,” Bree replied, looking frantically around and not seeing a sign of Mrs. Graham. How long had they been lying on the ground? 

“Come, now!” Claire called. “It’ll be a good three days before we reach Lallybroch on foot. I’d rather not wait around to see if someone saw us come through.”

“On foot? But what about the car?” Bree questioned, hysterically. 

Claire sighed, “The car isn’t there. We’re no longer in the twentieth century. I told you, the stories were real. We’ve been stolen through time and thrust into a world completely unknown. If all has gone as it should, we should be in the 1750s.” 

“1750s…” Bree’s mouth gapped like a fish in shock.

“We must keep moving. I’ll explain more as we go.” And she did. 

Claire and Brianna walked for the better part of three days; sleeping when they could, eating pinches from the stowed away picnic food, and talking—mostly Claire explaining what she knew of the time and what happened to her before Bree was born. 

As the fourth day rose, the shine of the white marble stone of Lallybroch greeted them. Brianna’s face had begun to sicken again, the pallor a grayish white with the fever flush back in full force. 

Claire began to panic. 

Scooping Brianna up into her arms, she let the basket fall to the ground, forgotten, and she raced towards the familiar sights of Lallybroch estate. 

Not knowing whom she’d find at the estate was of little concern. What she knew was that she needed to get there and beg whoever was there to help her. It may have been nearly twelve years since she last set foot on the grounds, but she was still Lady Broch Tuarach, and she would not take no for an answer.

The dooryard was as she remembered it, only with more clothes hanging and dogs barking, but there was no time to inspect anything. She needed help.

Claire rushed through the open door to the Lallybroch estate in search of someone that could help, not even caring to knock. Once through the door, she came face to face with Jenny Murray. 

“Help us, please.” Claire cried with a sigh of relief, a familiar face at last. 

Jenny’s jaw dropped and her feet unable to move. “Claire?” 

“Please Jenny, please help!” Claire implored, voice rough with a scream.

“Ye best be explaining how and why ye’ve come to be barging through that door and with a wee lass in yer arms,” Jenny said, arching a sleek black brow with a pointed look at Claire.

“I promise I’ll tell you everything, just please, help us.” The desperation in Claire’s voice was only enhance by the way cradled the child ever closer to her breast. 

Jenny looked at the girl cradled in Claire’s arms, red hair in unruly curls, the perfect mix of her mam and da. 

“Aye. I’ll help ye, but dinna think I’m happy about doin’ so wi’out answers.”


	2. I Need a Healer

The Laird’s bedroom in Lallybroch Estate hadn’t changed in the decade since Claire had last been there. Bree’s condition steadily worsened, slower than what it had been in the 20th century, but still worsening. Her face was broken out with a light sheen of sweat, and the color was that of chalk—save for the bright pink fever flush of her cheeks. 

Jenny fluffed pillows behind Bree’s head, her face held a look of concern. 

“How did the bairn come to be so sick, Claire?” Jenny asked, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

“I don’t know,” Claire said, smoothing a lock of sweat soaked hair from Brianna’s forehead. “One day—several years ago—she fell ill, ever since then it has been a gradual decline.”

“Several years ago? Ye mean to tell me this bairn has been sick for most of her life?” Jenny said aghast.

Before Claire had a chance to explain further, the door to the bedroom slammed open. 

“Madonna, I am here to help petite fille!” In a swirl of silks, Master Raymond appeared seemingly out of nowhere. 

“Master Raymond?” Claire said astonished. “What? How—?”

“Ah! I knew you were in need of my services, so here I am,” he said with a deep bow.

Jenny, for once, was speechless as this eccentric man commanded the room. Claire noticed when Jenny was starting to come-to, grabbed her arm holding her back, and watched with rapt attention as Master Raymond inspected Bree. 

“Ahh my petite, fille malade, I know what ails you so,” Raymond whispered to Bree. Bree’s eyebrows furrowed, though her eyes never opened. 

“Madonna, where is the Red Man? Where is your husband?” Whiskey colored eyes met whiskey colored anguished eyes. 

“I-I do not know.” Tears began to well in her eyes as she thought of Jamie. She knew if she made it to Lallybroch the likelihood of Jamie actually being present was, in fact, a long shot. Claire had hoped she’d be able to ask Jenny, Ian, or someone on the estate as to his whereabouts. 

“Helwater.” 

Claire and Raymond both looked at Jenny whose voice was gaining strength.

“He’s on parole at a nasty estate called Helwater. Instead of being transported to the Colonies, his punishment was to be sent to Helwater and be an indentured servant. That servitude wilna be up for another six years, at least.”

Jenny turned to Claire. “I’m sorry, sister. I should have told ye sooner, but I’m still no’ sure what ye’re doin’ here, and alive at that! We all thought ye were dead and had no notion of this bairn. I’m no’ saying we are no glad to see ye, it’s just, how are ye here? Jamie was convinced of yer death!”

Claire’s tears ran freely down her face. “I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you, Jenny. Where I’ve been….what I’ve seen and experienced is something you’ll think I’ve gone mad if I tell you.”

Jenny pulled her arm free from Claire’s grip and crossed it defiantly across her chest. Jenny arched an eyebrow and gave her a look only a determined Fraser could give and said, “Try me.”

Claire squared her shoulders and looked Jenny directly in the eye, “I’m from the future.”

Master Raymond smirked, and motioned for Claire to continue, not that she was paying attention to him; she was busy watching as Jenny’s mouth gaped like a fish, struggling to find her words. 

“You can call me mad, a Faerie, a witch even, but I am none of those things. I’m plain Claire Fraser, the same sister you knew and loved all those years ago. Healer, surgeon, mother, wife: all titles that I am and am proud to wear. I don’t know what all Jamie told you about my…disappearance, but it wasn’t as easy as you might have believed. I wanted to die with him; he is my heart and soul, that’s never changed. I, and now Brianna, are able to travel through time.” 

And so she began detailing everything that had happened to her: her first journey through the stones, her desire to get back to her first husband at the time, how Jamie became her life, and the horrific day when Jamie sent her back through the stones to protect their unborn child. 

“He had no choice in his mind. He didn’t want to risk me losing this miracle of a child we longed for, after Faith—we never imagined—I never thought—but that isn’t the point. He meant to die on the battlefield and he knew I would die with him. Brianna,” Claire smiled looking down at the ailing child, “Brianna was and is my world. She’s my piece of Jamie that got me through the anguished years apart from him, and she still does, even being here. She’s been sick ever since she was small. 

One day, it got so bad that she’d fall over every attempt she made at walking. It scared me to no end. At my work, I had all of the best surgeons and specialists look at her, all of them told me it was hopeless. Here I was, a surgeon, able to heal most people that walked through the door, yet I could not help my child.” Fresh tears sprang to Claire’s eyes. 

“Bree was getting worse, and with her worsening condition came these vivid dreams. Dreams of the Scottish countryside. She could detail out every inch of Lallybroch estate, including you, Ian and who I assumed are your growing children. She spoke of a man who lived in a cave and would tell her stories. I didn’t know what to believe about that man, but I hoped and prayed somehow she could see her father. 

That’s when I decided I didn’t care about society, my job, the rules of how things are supposed to be; I booked us a flight to Scotland first thing the following morning. We met an old friend of mine, she has a way of knowing and understanding things that are not of this world. She sent us back. Now here we are. Bree’s condition has slowed and I’m reunited with the family I’ve always loved. But I need my husband, Jenny. Is there a way to get him back?”

Claire’s tale sent Jenny’s mind whirling. “Ye mean to tell me that’s why ye ken the stuff ye do? About the potatoes you told me to plant, the famine ye rightly predicted, everything?”

Claire nodded. 

“Did ye ken how that awful day at Culloden would end?”

Again, Claire nodded. “I did know, but I didn't know the specifics of who would die and who would live. I knew the basics and the horror that was to follow.”

Jenny nodded, and began pacing the length of the room. “Jamie knew all of this as well.” 

She stated rather than asked. Claire didn’t say anything. 

“Ah, this is all well indeed ma’am, but do you know how to get the Red Man back? You said he was a place called Helwater, oui?” Master Raymond spoke up, his palm resting on Brianna’s forehead. 

“Aye. I could send a letter, but I don’t know what good that’ll do. It takes months for us to get correspondence back.”

Master Raymond shook his head and looked down at his kin, “The girl is dying. We need both parents together.” He looked up at Claire, whose hand had covered her mouth in anguish. “Madonna, do you remember the day you lost your first child?”

Claire nodded; nothing could prevent her from forgetting Faith. 

“Well, I had you call the Red Man to heal yourself. The only way to heal this child is for both of you to be here for her to call upon. Since the child has never met her father, he needs to be present for her to draw from.”

Claire nodded, her eyes searching his. ‘Help. Please. Do whatever you must,’ her eyes beseeched. 

“I can fetch him. I dinna ken how easily or fast it’ll be done, but I can get him,” Jenny spoke up. 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Claire said. 

“Aye, ye can and ye will. I ken ye aren’t about to leave this bairn on her own. Let me bring him home.”


	3. Return of the Red Man and Red Child

_Fields, open fields full of the greenest grass she’d ever laid eyes on surrounded her. She wandered around, taking in the too blue sky, the thin and fresh air that caused a dizzy feeling, and the lack of buildings for as far as her eyes could see. Where was she? Her Mama and Daddy were nowhere to be found, no matter how far she ran in any direction. Why weren’t they near her? How did she become so alone?_

_Her vision flickered, spots of white and black mixing with the blue and green of the field around her, and then, a building appeared. It wasn’t a large building, more of a cottage or shack, but smoke billowed from the chimney. People. She took off at a sprint, desperately seeking humanity._

_The door was roughly hewn and didn’t sit perfectly in its frame. She was afraid to knock on it; afraid if she did, the whole door would come down on top of her. Just as she had steeled her nerves to knock on the decrepit door, it swung open. A tall woman with fiery red hair, gray eyes, and a straight nose gazed down at her._

_“Hello a leannan,” the woman said in a funnily accented voice. “Please come in.” The woman backed away, motioning for the her to make herself at home._

_She looked around and sat herself of the plush looking armchair._

_“How did you come to be here a leannan?” the woman asked, crinkles and creases lining the outside of her kind mouth and smiling eyes._

_“I-I-I don’t know,” she said, her voice wobbling. “I don't know where I am.”_

_The woman laid a hand on her cheek, brushing the tears from her face._

_“Seas, a leannan. No need for tears.” Her hands were gentle and soft despite the callouses. “Why dinna ye tell me what ye remember of how ye got here? Or about yourself and your family?”_

_The warm and welcoming smile made her feel at ease. She snuggled into the woman’s embrace, seeking the comfort of a mother figure._

_“My name is Brianna Ellen and I’m from Boston.”_

_“Ach, that’s beautiful name,” the woman said, lightly squeezing Brianna. “Where is this Boston ye speak of?”_

_Bree giggled. “It’s in America!”_

_“The colonies?” The woman’s gray eyes widened in shock. Bree nodded her head enthusiastically._

_“Yes, ma’am, though they aren’t called that now. I live with my Mama. She’s a surgeon and helps make people feel better. Her friends at the hospital tried to help me get better, but nothing was working.” Bree’s face etched in a frown. “I don’t feel as sick here with you. I don’t know why that is, but I feel like I could run for days and my body doesn’t ache like it did before. Are you a special healer like Mama?”_

_“Mmm no, a leannan. I’m no’ a healer. Though I’d like to meet your Mam. She sounds like a wonderful woman.”_

_“Oh she is! My daddy--he’s not my daddy anymore.”_

_“What do ye mean?” she asked, smoothing the worry from Bree’s mind with each stroke of her hand down her back._

_“Daddy’s name is Frank Randall and Mama said he’s not my real daddy. He raised me as his, but I’m not his blood. My real daddy’s name is James...at least that’s what Mama says. I’m not sure I believe her or not.”_

_“My son’s name is James,” the kind woman whispered. “James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser is his full name.”_

_Bree’s eyes widened as she turned and looked at the woman’s face. “That’s what Mama said his name was! Are you--are you my grandmother?”_

_The woman smiled and stroked her cheek. “Aye, a leannan. I’m your Grannie Ellen.”_

_Brianna wrapped her arms around Ellen’s neck and whispered in awe, “I’ve never had a grandmother before.”_

_Ellen held her granddaughter close. “Aye well, ye’ll always have me with you a leannan. Ye may no be able to see me or your Grandda Brian, but we’re there.”_

_“Grannie?”_

_“Aye, a ghraidh?” Ellen whispered into Brianna’s fiery red curls._

_“Am I named after you and Grandda then? And why wouldn’t I be able to see you? I’m holding you and can see you just fine right now.”_

_The look of concern on Bree’s face made Ellen’s heart clench._

_“Oh, a leannan, ye may no’ be able to see me or yer Grandda for a verra good reason. I canna explain it to ye just now, but before ye leave I’ll let ye know. As for yer name, aye, I believe ye were named for us. Yer Mama wanted to honor your Da’s kin it seems.”_

_Brianna snuggled deeper into Ellen’s embrace feeling herself grow heavy with exhaustion. “Grannie, I’m tired.”_

_“Then rest your head lass, I’ll keep watch over ye.” Ellen began to hum a melody that made Brianna drift off to sleep, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth._

_Ellen rocked and hummed to her gravely ill granddaughter, desperate to keep her at peace. The child did not understand what was happening to her and she couldn’t let her stay become permanent._

_“Your Da will come a leannan. He will help put your soul at ease along with your Mam’s. He’ll be there to heal you and watch you grow. Stay strong for your family, my little Bree, please stay strong.”_

_A small smile lifted Brianna’s cheek as Ellen brushed the ruddy locks away from her face. “You are just like your Da little one.”_

_“Ellen?”_

_The comforting voice washed over Ellen as she looked to the corner of the cottage and reached out her hand, beckoning the man forward._

_“She’s so bonnie,” Brian Fraser whispered, taking his first up close look at his granddaughter and namesake._

_“Aye, she is. She’s the spit of our wee Jamie.”_

_“Ach, no! She’s the spit of her Grannie,” Brian corrected his wife, placing a tender kiss to the child’s forehead. “It’s no’ her time to be here.”_

_Ellen nodded. “I ken that well, mo ghraidh. Doesna change the fact she is here. We need to keep her safe until Jamie and Claire can help her. I love her dearly, but I dinna wish to wait with another one of our children’s bairns for their parents join them here. It’s no’ right, Brian. Children should no’ die before their parents.”_

_Brian lay a weathered hand on Ellen’s shaking shoulder. “Aye, but it happens, mo nighean ruiadh. We need to keep her thinking of her Mam and her Da so she can go back. Her soul already wanders about like wee Jamie’s; we canna let it drift too far into this world. It’s no’ for the living.”_

_Ellen nodded, grabbed her husband’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Should we bring Faith in here to meet her sister, at least once?”_

_“No,” Brian said simply. “Wouldn’t be right for the lass ye hold in your arms to lose a sister on top of her grandparents.”_

_Brianna began to stir in her grandmother’s arms; just before her eyes opened, Brian disappeared back into shadows._

_“Feel better, mo chridhe?” Ellen smiled down at Brianna._

_“Yes, Grannie, I do. Why do I feel better here?”_

_“This is a place all your own. Ye feel no pain here because you feel safe and you’re with family.”_

_Bree scrunched her face up in disbelief. “I don’t think that’s it. There’s something coming near me...I don’t know what it could be, but it’s strong and….red.”_

_“Dinna fash yerself about it lass.”_

_Brianna nodded and let her body melt into her grandmother’s once again._

_“Why don’t we go for a walk outside and ye can tell me more about yer Mam and I can tell ye stories about yer Da?”_

_The smile Ellen was met with made her hold onto Brianna even tighter. “I would love that Grannie!”_

 

“She’s smiling.” Claire said looking down at the bed where Bree lay motionless.

Raymond looked down and studied the girl’s face. “So she is Madonna, so she is. Perhaps she feels the Red Man coming nearer, or the effects of this time are working on her soul already.”

Claire nodded and settled herself beside her daughter. She reached a shaking hand out and gently caressed the side of Brianna’s face, the smile grew larger. Claire smiled down at her daughter and continued to pray for a quick arrival of Jenny and Jamie.

“How much longer do you think until they arrive?”

“Difficult to say, Madonna. Could be within the hour or within a week. It depends on how quickly the Red Woman was able to barter your husband’s freedom.”

“I pray it’s on the faster end of things.”

“As do I Madonna. The child cannot last much longer as it is. She needs to be whole once again.”

Claire looked at Master Raymond, startled and confused. “What do you mean, ‘once again?’ How has she not been whole?”

Raymond let out a sigh and stoppered the bottle in his hand. “The child was whole when she was conceived and all the days leading up until your untimely departure from this century. When your husband made the decision to send you back, and your choice to go through with it, your daughter’s soul became--for lack of better phrase--fractured. This fracturing can only be healed by uniting the pieces once again.”

Claire’s heart fell to her stomach like a lead ball. “What have I done?” she mouthed, sound unable to pass her lips through the horror.

“Do not worry, it is an easy fix with both parents surviving. Her soul did not wish to leave either of her parents and went to where it was needed. You may have had her physical body and a piece of her soul, but the Red Man was in more need than you. He holds a bigger piece; it is what has kept him from going deep into depression these many years. The horrors he’s experienced are more grave than you can imagine. This girl,” he pointed to Brianna, “kept him whole. Her soul kept him company and allowed him to feel both of your love through time and space.”

“If Jamie and I reunite her soul, would it harm him?” Claire began to panic, she couldn’t fathom allowing her daughter to die, but she couldn’t bring Jamie to harm either.

“Nay, Madonna. Having the two of you here will heal his soul as well….and yours.”

“Mine? But mine--”

“Is more broken than the child’s,” Master Raymond said, holding up a hand to silence anything Claire might say. “Listen Madonna. What does your soul say to you?”

Claire felt silly, but closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, to puzzle out what he meant. “It aches and cries for the love that was ripped away.”

“Oui, Madonna. What else?”

“It wants to heal and heal others…” Claire trailed off, her eyebrows and forehead scrunching in concentration.

“Ah, that would be the blue about you. Dig deeper, what else?” Raymond’s voice was barely audible, but Claire heard it all the same.

“It’s tugging...something is mending… Jamie--Jamie is…”

“Yes.”

“He’s here.” The moment of realization dawned on Claire warming her to the core. “Oh God! He’s here!”

At that moment, Jamie burst through the door in a flurry of need. His eyes were crazed, then turned to relief and sadness as tears began to freely flow down his cheeks.

“Ye’re no’ a ghost are ye?”

“Jamie!”

Jamie took two long steps and engulfed Claire in his arms, his shoulders shaking with his tears.

“Christ, Sassenach, I never thought.. I couldn’t... “

“Shh, shh. I know Jamie, I know. Our daughter…” Claire trailed off turning to look at Bree. Her color was more pink than white and the sweat had dried. Something was changing.

_“Brianna.”_

_A voice floated through her consciousness._

_“Grannie, do you hear that?” Brianna asked, twirling a clover between her fingers._

_“...love…dinna think she was real…”_

_“Hear what, a leannan?”_

_Bree tilted her head up towards the sky. “That voice. It’s a man’s voice, he sounds similar to you!”_

_“Brianna.”_

_“MAMA!” Bree jumped up. “Grannie did you hear her? I heard Mama. MAMA!! Where are you?” Bree yelled, hoping to hear her mother’s voice again._

_“A leannan, remember what I told you those first few days you were here?”_

_Bree nodded her head and took her grandmother’s hand._

_“This place is secret and special; only those whose souls can travel can end up here or…”_

_“Or what Grannie?”_

_“Or if that person has died, a leannan.” Bree’s eyes grew wide at her grandmother’s statement._

_“I’m not...dead...am I?”_

_Ellen’s gaze softened. “No, mo chridhe, ye are not. But yer Grandda and I are.”_

_“No!” Brianna yelled through her tears. “You can’t be dead! I can touch you! I can see you! I can’t lose you…”_

_“Och, mo chridhe, ye wilna lose me. I’ll always be right here,” Ellen said, tapping above where Bree’s heart lay. “It’s time for ye to join your Mam and Da.”_

_Ellen stood up, helping Brianna to her feet._

_“Close your eyes, Brianna.”_

_Bree shook her head, tears falling down her face. “No. I don’t want to lose you.”_

_“You won’t, sweetheart. I promise, I’ll always be there. Just look in the mirror and you’ll see me. Paint with your heart and you’ll be with me. Love fiercely and you’ll never stray from me. Can you do that for me?”_

_“Yes Grannie,” Bree said her tears coming harder now._

_“Good, come give me a hug.” Bree threw herself into Ellen’s embrace. “Now close your eyes.”_

_Bree did so without arguing._

_“Good, now think of your Mam.”_

_“I love you, Grannie.”_

_Ellen kissed the top of Brianna’s head. “I love you too, my little one. I love you very much. On the count of three I need you to open your eyes for me.”_

_Brianna nodded, squeezing Ellen tighter, but felt her start to fade away._

_“One….two…..three…” the final word was a whisper in the wind._

_“Grannie!” Bree called out feeling her grandmother disappear from her grasp, but she did as she was asked and opened her eyes._

“Brianna!” A female and male voice called at once. She felt the warmth and softness of someone holding her tight to her chest. Blinking, she looked up.

“Mama?”

Tears streamed down Claire’s face and she turned to look at the person beside her, the person who also had ahold of Brianna.

Brianna gasped. The man looked just like her Grannie Ellen; he looked like her. This must be, “Da?”

Jamie choked on his tears and pulled Brianna close. “Aye, mo nighean ruiadh. I’m yer Da.”

Bree smiled and melted into the twin embraces of her parents, and for once while fully alert and awake, no longer felt the bone deep pain from before.


End file.
